Lily of the Valley
by Raspberry Verjuice
Summary: While visiting her aunt in the cemetery, Susan realizes that Harry Potter is not the only one she has death in common with. femmeslash, Susan/Luna


Susan had a dream once, a very long time ago, that she was sitting in a rocking chair in a room full of sunshine. The room had an empty bookshelf beside the large, heavy-looking wooden door. The walls were pale yellow, the floor covered in cream-colored carpet. The rocking chair was very large, or perhaps she was very small--her feet did not touch the floor, and she had to stretch her arms upwards to place them on the armrests. This was uncomfortable, so she folded her hands in her lap and waited patiently, staring at the door.

After a moment, her aunt entered, smiling.

"Hello, Susie," her aunt said quietly.

Susan smiled. "Hello, Aunt Amelia."

Her aunt leaned down and kissed her atop her head, pausing to inhale deeply.

"Daffodils, love," her aunt whispered into her hair. "You smell of daffodils."

When she pulled away, a lily blossom was in Susan's lap. Her aunt picked it up immediately, and her quick movements startled Susan. When she looked into her aunt's face, her eyes shone with tears.

"Aunt Amelia?" Susan queried, worried.

Her aunt looked at the blossom in her hands, raised it to her lips, and kissed it with her eyes closed. The tears spilled out from between her lashes, dropping onto the white, fresh petals. Susan was suddenly very afraid.

"I'm sorry, Susan," her aunt told her. "I didn't want you to see it."

"See what?" Susan asked, leaning forward in the rocking chair. She wanted to stand, but found her legs were unable to move.

"The lily," her aunt replied, and began to sob. She held the flower close to her chest. "Oh...oh, your daffodils…"

"Aunt Amelia--"

Her aunt's face was suddenly stricken with fear, then barren of anything at all. Behind her, a window smashed inward and the room went black. Susan heard a distant scream growing in volume, as though something were rushing towards her. As it reached its crescendo, she realized it was her own.

It ended then.

Susan did not think about the dream for a long time after that. She didn't think of it when the Death Eaters responsible for the murder of half her family broke out of Azkaban. She didn't think of it when at family gatherings. She didn't think of it when she visited her aunt on certain weekends, weekends full of tea and stories and laughter and Susan-and-Aunt-Amelia time. Her mind was simply busy with other things--things that did not involve daffodils or flowers or her aunt dying. Though the Azkaban escape brought her sudden unwanted attention, and put into her head sudden unwanted thoughts of death, nothing ever related back to her aunt. Even when she laid a daffodil on the casket and her tears dripped on the yellow, fresh petals, she did not think of the dream.

Susan thought of the dream when she found Luna Lovegood kneeling before her aunt's tombstone, tracing her name over and over again with her fingertips. Initially, Susan was annoyed--her aunt had been gone less than six months and already people were coming by to gape at evidence that Voldemort was back--but once she realized these "people" were really just Luna, who wore an awed expression, her annoyance faded. As she drew closer, she saw Luna was holding a daffodil in her right hand.

"Hello Susan," Luna said, without looking away from the tombstone. "Lovely day for a walk in the cemetery."

"Err…" Susan said stupidly, unsure of how to begin. She and Luna had never spoken before and actually, she was rather surprised that the younger girl knew her name at all.

Luna turned and stared up at her. Her face held no expression, but was not blank. It seemed as though she saw through Susan--that is to say, not past her, but into her.

"My mother and your aunt are gravemates," Luna informed her, blinking twice.

"They're...what?" Susan asked.

"Gravemates," Luna said, and pointed at the tombstone to the right of her aunt's. Apparently, this was the only explanation the girl was going to offer her.

Susan crossed behind Luna, not taking her eyes away from her until she stood right before the tombstone. It seemed more aged and plain than her aunt's, but bore LUCY LOVEGOOD all the same. Susan turned to Luna, mouth agape, but Luna had gone back to tracing her aunt's name.

"I always wondered who would keep Mum company," Luna said, and Susan noticed the dreamy quality her voice held. It were as though they were discussing the weather or a childhood memory. "When I came to visit today, I found out. I heard your aunt was a very brilliant witch."

"She was," Susan said, her own voice sounding distant to her. She was entranced by the movement of Luna's fingers, tracing BONES over and over again.

"My mum was very brilliant as well," Luna told her. "Perhaps they've lots to share with each other."

Luna's hand lifted away from the sleek marble of the tombstone, hovering over the B for a few seconds before moving to the M in AMELIA. She ran her finger down the first leg of the letter, then dragged it upwards again. She repeated this motion, as though trying to deepen the engraving.

"I'm sorry," Susan said, because she had nothing else to say. "I didn't know your mother--"

"It's all right," Luna interrupted her, the corners of her mouth turning up into a slight smile. "We don't know each other very well, do we, Susan? You couldn't have known." She turned and looked at her. "But I'm happy Mum has a friend now."

Luna moved her hand from the M to the ground beside her, patting the grass gently in an invitation for Susan to sit beside her. Susan was surprised when she did not hesitate, and realized only after sitting that they were quite close to one another. When Luna met her eyes, Susan could smell daffodils in her hair.

"Daffodils," Susan murmured, and the dream came rushing back.

"Oh, yes," Luna said, and her smile grew. "I do love them. I wore this one in my hair this morning, but I thought it might do better here."

With that, she placed the daffodil she had been holding down where grass met stone. Susan felt a sudden rush of tears begin to spill down her cheeks and hastily tried to wipe them away before Luna noticed.

"Don't be sad," Luna said without looking at her. "It isn't as though you'll never see her again, is it?"

"It's just…," Susan began, then bit her lower lip and wiped more tears away. "I had a dream…a very long time ago, and I had...I had forgotten about it until just now."

"A dream?" Luna repeated. "I quite like dreams. I had one about Blast-Ended Skrewts last night. They were being used to take over the Ministry. It doesn't surprise me. What was yours about?"

Susan found herself recounting her dream to Luna in a rush, remembering every little detail as though she had experienced it the night before instead of a night many years prior. When she was done, Luna did not appear phased, awed, or sympathetic. She wore the same dreamy expression.

Gently, with the same slender fingers that had traced her aunt's name, Luna wiped Susan's cheeks and said again, "Don't be sad."

"How can I not be sad?" Susan burst out, sniffling. "I loved her, she...she was my favorite person in the whole world."

Luna wiped more of Susan's tears away, this time using her sleeve instead of her fingers. "Dreams are a lot of different things, you know. You should think yourself lucky. You can see the future."

"What?" Susan said, and batted Luna's hand away. "Oh, that's ridicu--"

Luna looked her right in the eye, and Susan was halted dead in her tracks. Luna's eyes were positively disarming. Susan suddenly felt naked in front of her, as though there was nothing she could share about herself that Luna couldn't figure out simply by looking at her. Never, ever, in her entire life had she felt that way.

"Your aunt was trying to warn you," Luna told her. "A lily symbolizes death. And she was worried, because she wanted to be able to protect you and she couldn't. She said you smelled like daffodils, because daffodils mean innocence. When you saw the lily, she was afraid you wouldn't smell like daffodils anymore."

Susan's eyes and mouth both went dry. "She was afraid I wouldn't be innocent anymore when she died. And she couldn't protect me anymore."

"Yes," Luna said with a very slow nod. "It's so nice to see that such a brilliant witch could make such a wonderful aunt. She loved you very much."

"Yes," Susan whispered. "She loved me very much."

"I have dreams like that about my mother sometimes," Luna told her. "I'm always in a garden, and she comes to me and brings me flowers. They're different every time. Last time she brought me a lily of the valley, and she said I would give it to someone who needed it. I suppose she meant you. Lily of the valley symbolizes a good message, you know."

"Quite unlike the regular one," Susan said, feeling a smile tug at her lips.

"Oh, I don't think lilies are as bad as people think," Luna said in a voice so quiet Susan had to lean forward slightly to hear. "They don't just mean death, you know. It's the innocence restored in death. The only difference between a daffodil and a lily is that the circle isn't yet complete."

Susan's eyes fell on Luna's mouth as she said the word "complete" and did not ask what she meant.

"Why are you staring at my mouth?" Luna asked innocently, cocking her head to the side slightly.

"Oh." Susan started, her eyes snapping up to meet Luna's as a blush spread across her cheeks. "I...I…"

"If you want to kiss me, I understand," Luna said, and Susan felt her blush get much deeper. "I wouldn't mind."

"What?" Susan exclaimed, baffled. "I don't...I mean, I hardly…"

"Hardly what?"

"I…" Susan's eyes were locked into Luna's, and she realized the words she was about to speak, though logically true, felt like a complete lie. "I hardly know you."

"Yes," Luna agreed. "It's funny, isn't it?"

There was a moment where neither one of them moved, and then someone did--Susan was never sure, even in hindsight, which one of them had been responsible for it--and Luna's mouth was against hers, and her lips were soft and Susan's nose filled with the scent of daffodils.


End file.
